Different Route, Same Destination
by Baker-Street-Potter-Head
Summary: When Sherlock and Molly meet rather unusually, they develop a disliking to each other. The apparent dislike soon deteriorates but how long can they deny their obvious attraction? And what about the boyfriend? Rating is for future chapters...xx
1. An Unorthodox Encounter

_Hello guys and welcome back. Ok, this is a different take on Sherlolly (oh, and Sherlock and John already know each other, also) J xx I'm not sure how many chapters just yet, but we'll see how it goes. I hope you like it…. xx_

Molly Hooper wasn't often late but, as she dashed around her flat collecting various items, she realised today was going to be one of those days. It was her first day at her new job and turning up late wasn't going to create the best first impression. She had selected a well-fitting black skirt and tights, loose fitting silk top and flat shoes, perfect for a day of standing around dissecting corpses. Molly ran from room to room, until deciding she had lost her keys. **Shit!**

"OLLIE! Have you seen my keys?"

Molly entered the bedroom where her boyfriend, Oliver Braxton, was snoozing softly. He mumbled incoherently and rolled over, snoring softly. Molly tossed a pillow at him, causing him to jerk awake.

"Huh? No…maybe you left them in…the car…"

Oliver slumped back into the pillows, closing his eyes. Molly huffed before stomping out, picking up her bag as she left. Oliver lifted his head, rubbing his eyes slightly.

"Have a good day! Love you."

Molly, who was halfway out of the door, called behind her as she raced out of the flat.

"Yeah, me too."

Oliver rolled his eyes and collapsed against the pillows once more, Toby jumping up and snuggling next to him, purring softly.

Sherlock Holmes raced through the streets, pushing past various different people, trying to keep up with the escaping man. He had been chasing him for nearly seven minutes and the man had not stopped, surprising for his build. Sherlock had been watching him for days and was not about to let him escape. Not one person attempted to stop the criminal, either, who darted across the road, suddenly, narrowly avoiding the traffic. Sherlock followed with haste and ran into the path of a woman, who had been rooting through her bag, holding a cup of hot liquid in her other hand. They collided which caused her to spill the burning hot coffee all over herself, hissing in pain as it burned her skin.

Shaking himself down and swearing violently, Sherlock scanned the crowds across the road, spinning around on the spot; there was no sign of him, unsurprisingly. The woman was also swearing, wincing as she dabbed her shirt. Sherlock rounded on her, anger in his voice.

"You stupid bitch, I was this close…"

Molly blinked in confusion before glaring furiously at the tall stranger. Sherlock had turned back to scanning the streets, oblivious to her fury. He turned when he heard her shrill, anger filled voice shouting at him.

"Excuse me? You're the twat that ran right into me," more dabbing and patting, "Oh, look at this," when the stranger didn't say anything, she frowned, her hands on her hips, "are you going to apologise or not?"

Sherlock frowned at the woman, folding his arms, a stern look set on his face. Molly tutted loudly, shaking her head, muttering about 'typical men'. Sherlock titled his head slightly, his voice icy cold.

"I think not. I do not see why I should apologise; it was clearly your fault. Meanwhile, you just aided the escape of a potential murderer. If you had been looking where-"

"Don't you fucking dare, mate," she rounded on him, her voice rising slightly. She wasn't usually like this, patience was her middle name, but due to the fact she was running late and having a genuinely bad day wasn't helping matters. Besides, if he had apologised…, "I am having one hell of day already and I don't need you having a go. Just piss off and let me get on with my crappy day, yeah? I'm late enough…," Molly checked her watch whilst Sherlock was attempting not to smirk, "let's just take relief in the fact we'll never see each other again, ok?"

Sherlock quickly frowned at her, many deductions about her forming in his mind, although he didn't know why. It wasn't like he was going to see her again…but she intrigued him. More than any case could at the moment…

"You are a bitch, do you know that?"

His voice had softened and the hint of a smirk was back. Molly, however, frowned and swung her bag onto her shoulders. Molly faltered slightly as she noticed his eyes were a beautiful shade of blue with green tints mixed in. And his voice…

"Yeah, well you're an insensitive dick."

She pushed past him fiercely, trying not to think about his intoxicating presence, and huffed loudly as she ran down the street. Sherlock pressed his lips tightly together as she disappeared around the corner, his eyes raking over somewhere they really shouldn't be: her legs. **Really, what a bitch.**

"…and there was the fact she had her car keys. Why? Not to mention her clothing…"

John Watson sighed as Sherlock paced in front of him, waving his arms around like a madman. He had been listening –well, ignoring as he was _trying _to read the paper - to his flatmate's story for about twenty minutes now and the time had come for an intervention.

"So, what was her name?"

Sherlock stopped dead and frowned at John, who was looking at his friend with interest. Sherlock blinked, giving John a strange look.

"What?"

John shrugged, casually returning to his paper, occasionally glancing over the top. Sherlock shook his head and continued pacing, and deducing.

"Her shirt was smart, newly bought until the coffee incident. Her fault entirely, of course. I would say, going by her irrational anger, it was important she looked smart. First day at her new job, then. Now the real point of interest," Sherlock whirled around to face the window, pacing up and down furiously beside it. John let out an exaggerated sigh, clutching his paper tighter, "her skirt was nicely fitting; smart, tight and mid-length. It is not something generally suitable for standing around in all day, and, judging by how good she looked walking away, I would say she was dressing to impress suggesting a meeting with the boss…"

John's eyes widened and he lowered his paper. He smiled smugly and pointed his finger at Sherlock accusingly. Sherlock stopped pacing when he realised John was pointing towards him.

"What did you just say?"

Sherlock waved a hand dismissively avoiding John's direct gaze.

"I simply observed."

John raised his eyebrows in a 'yeah, right' kind of way before returning to his paper with a shake of the head.

"Thank you, Miss Hooper. You know where our morgue is, you can get to work immediately.

Mike Stamford beamed at Molly as he flicked through her paperwork. Molly smiled back and stood up shaking his hand vigorously. She stepped away from Mike's desk, heading towards the door.

"Thank you very much, Dr. Stamford. I cannot wait to get started."

Mike nodded and Molly reached for the handle, pausing as Mike let out a surprised gasp.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Mike fiddled with his tie, shifting uncomfortably, "um, before you go…there's something you should know. For the past few months, St. Bartholomew's has been visited by a…_detective_ of sorts from the Yard. He…_borrows _our facilities to assist with his cases. You will no doubt come into contact with him and I must warn you…he's a little difficult."

Molly let out a little laugh, pulling the door open and stepping through it.

"Trust me, after the day I've had, there's nothing I can't handle."

After the door closed behind her, Mike shook his head and returned to his mountain of paperwork. **She has no idea what she's in for, poor girl. **Mike glanced closer at her papers, with a smirk. **Hmmm, come to think of it, neither does Sherlock.**

Molly pulled on her lab coat and hummed to herself as she examined her list. She swallowed at the already large list of autopsies in front of her and Molly realised her predecessor had left her a lot of work to do. She whipped her hair into a quick ponytail and took a deep breath, pushing the doors to the morgue open. She stopped dead when she noticed the sight in front of her. Sitting on the stool, facing her, was the detective Mike mentioned would be dropping in. Molly didn't expect it would be _him._

"Well, well, hello again. I was just thinking how I have missed a good argument…"

He was just sitting there, his arms folded across his chest with a smirk plastered onto his face. Molly swallowed again, his eyes meeting hers. Molly stood up straight and frowned at him.

"You…you're the…uh, the detective."

She must have sounded pathetic because he let out a small laugh, standing up. Molly glared at him as he stepped forwards. She hated how his gaze made her feel like she was being studied.

"Yes, Sherlock Holmes."

Molly noticed how he didn't extend his hand when he announced his name. Molly furrowed her brow once more. She walked over to her desk and dropped her bag onto it, before turning to face him. **Still no apology…**

"I hope you don't expect me to cooperate with your 'experiments', Sherlock, because I can assure you, Dr. Stamford maybe willing but you are not having anything from this morgue under my watch. Understand?"

Sherlock smiled an infuriating smile and Molly huffed. She meant it…she was going to guard the items with her life if she had to. Sherlock returned to his stool and turned it to face her.

"We shall see, Molly Hooper, we shall see."

Molly blinked for a moment before stomping over to her first body of the day. **Stupid badge.**

_I do hope that wasn't horrifyingly awful, lol. Please review and let me know what you thought, always interested :D xx Thank you so much for reading and stay tuned, back soon ;p xx_


	2. Now What Do We Do?

_Welcome back everyone. I have more time on my hands now so I can work on ALL of my unfinished stories (which are a lot, lol) and hopefully be able to write some more YAY! ;p xx Anyway, for now, here's chapter 2 of this one :D… xx_

It had been half an hour and Molly hadn't given in to Sherlock's irritating demands of various pieces of equipment and body parts. This had gone down well with the consulting detective who insisted on pacing the morgue, shooting random deductions in the hope of getting her to give in. Nothing worked, though, not even his persistent observations of her work over her shoulder. Sherlock was not known for his patience, however, and soon gave up, slumping in his stool with his arms folded and a scowl set on his face. He could easily steal the key to the cupboards and take what he required but where was the fun in that? Soon after, Molly finished her autopsy with a smile, pulling off her gloves and disposing of them. She moved over to her desk and became aware that Sherlock was watching her. She shifted uncomfortably and refused to look up to meet his gaze. Thankfully her phone vibrated in her pocket and she withdrew it promptly to accept the call.

"Hello?"

_"Hiya, Mols. Just wondering what you'd like for tea?"_

Molly sighed and stood up, pacing the morgue, still avoiding Sherlock's gaze. Sherlock smiled to himself and leaned against the table, listening with interest. ** I wonder what could possibly be so private. **Molly shifted on her feet, hoping that Sherlock would find this too mundane to listen to.

"Hello, Ollie. Uh, I don't know. You decide, I chose last night."

Sherlock frowned slightly. **Hmmm, soft tone, distracted and distant sounding; long-term relationship, then. Comfortable and familiar so close family friend maybe? Flatmate, certainly, friend or sibling, though?**

_"Yeah…but you always complain with what I choose."_

"Oh, fine. Just order a take away I've got a few hours left, anyway. We can have a quiet night in. Just the two of us…"

Molly had raised her voice slightly, with a slight smile. Sherlock rolled his eyes, moving over to her desk and rifling through her papers. Oliver hadn't spoken for a moment; he wasn't used to Molly being sentimental with him.

_"Er…ok, how's your first day?"_

Molly chuckled a little and was about to answer when she felt something behind her. Sherlock was standing extremely close to her, leaning forwards in order to caress her ear with his warm breath and deep voice.

"Would you kindly lie down on this table and continue your alluring movements…"

Molly forgot to breathe for a minute and Sherlock, despite himself, inhaled her sweet scent with a devilish smirk. **Strawberries with a hint of coconut. I shall make a note of that. **Molly soon snapped out of it when a voice sounded in her ear.

_"Who was that?"_

Molly turned angrily to face Sherlock who was grinning broadly. She pushed him away angrily and moved over to her desk again. Sherlock gave a small chuckle as he went back to his stool, a look of pure amusement on his face…and perhaps something else?

"Oh, no one, just some prat that hangs out here. Um…my-my first day…yeah, its…um, it-its good."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and examined his phone. He was growing bored now; he hadn't received an interesting case yet and was getting impatient. **Nothing, not even the extremely dull according to Lestrade. I suppose, for now, I will have to use other methods of…****_entertaining _****myself. **He glanced towards Molly who was rubbing the back of her neck and fanning herself slightly.

_"Oh right. I'll see you later then. Have a good day, I love you."_

Molly swallowed as she glanced up and noticed that Sherlock was once again staring at her with a raised eyebrow. Some part of her was certain he could hear what Oliver was saying to her but she dismissed it as impossible.

"Yeah, me too. I'll see you later."

Oliver groaned in annoyance as Molly hung up the phone. He had long ago accepted her reply for his 'I love you' but it still worried him slightly. Sherlock didn't know why, but he was fascinated by her…and it frustrated him. He watched as she settled down to her paperwork. After another hour of Sherlock silently sitting there, watching her and drifting in and out of deep thought, Molly slammed her pen down in irritation causing Sherlock to open his eyes in shock.

"Look, I'm pretty sure if you wanted to, you could access the things you need so…so just do it and stop annoying me. I don't care anymore…"

Sherlock smirked turning slowly in his stool. He then glanced at his watch and raised his eyebrows whilst Molly folded her arms. She pushed her glasses up further up her nose. Sherlock swallowed slightly as she did so. **When did she put those on? **He cleared his throat.

"Impressive. Your predecessor was much easier to work around, it only took him ten minutes to hand over the key. He was almost bald by the end of his career…"

Sherlock chuckled at the memory whilst Molly frowned. **How can one person be so infuriating and so…desirable at the same time? **Molly shook her head in disbelief and looked down at her papers quickly. She could hear Sherlock shuffling across the room.

"No. I have no need, as of yet. I assure you, though; you have not seen the last of me. Good day…"

Molly heard the doors to the morgue swing shut and she immediately released the breath she didn't know she had been holding. **Well, at least he's gone for today. Bloody git.**

Sherlock returned to 221B and threw himself onto the sofa, keen to organise his thoughts. John was sitting in his chair once more, typing furiously away on his laptop. He hadn't even looked up when Sherlock stormed through the door, just nodded in his direction and looked up slightly. Sherlock sighed deeply every now and again, causing John to pause with his typing. Soon, Sherlock sat up straight and drew his phone from his pocket, grinning broadly.

_I need your help. This is kind of a private matter so utmost discretion is required. Get some help if you like. GL_

_Of course. I'll be there promptly…and I have just the person in mind. SH_

John stopped typing as Sherlock stuffed his phone back into his pocket and reached for his coat. John glanced towards the clock at the bottom corner of his laptop. **10:37pm? It's a bit late for a walk, isn't it? Unless he's got a case…**

"Anyone interesting?"

Sherlock was halfway through buttoning his coat when John spoke. He shot him a smirk before ruffling his hair.

"Never. I will be out late, there is no need to wait."

John looked puzzled as Sherlock gathered his things and headed out of the flat and out of the main door. He shrugged and returned to his laptop, taking a sip of his now lukewarm tea.

Sherlock arrived outside Molly's flat in less than fifteen minutes. He had seen her address on one of her papers when he had been rifling through her desk. He hated how his heart hammered as he stood outside, contemplating what to say to her. **She will never agree, this was an absurd idea. Nevertheless, if it interrupts her 'night in' with whatever scumbag she is involved with, then so be it. **Taking a deep breath and gritting his teeth, he knocked once on the door, sharply and firmly and replaced his hands behind his back. He heard the padding of bare feet on wood from inside the flat and his heart sank when she opened the door.

"What…do you…want? I'm…kind of in the…middle of something…"

Sherlock took in her appearance with a slight lump in his throat; damp messy hair, sweat soaked skin, rapid breathing and impatient posture. Sherlock gave a small smile and short nod before meeting her eyes. Her face softened at the look he was giving her.

"I am sorry to have disturbed you…"

"No, it's alright. I've paused it, anyway."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow in confusion and Molly smirked.

"The Wii! Don't tell me you've never heard of it?"

Molly waved a long, white remote control in the air and Sherlock breathed a deep sigh of relief. **Relief? What did you think she was doing? On second thought, do not answer that…**

"If I have, I have deleted it. Unimportant. There is, however, a matter of utmost urgency I require your assistance with."

Molly frowned but decided it wasn't worth arguing. She nodded and invited him inside while she moved into her bedroom to change. Sherlock examined every aspect of her flat from her unusual taste in furniture to her surprising lack of sentimental pictures. He did notice one of her standing in a tender embrace with a man he assumed to be her boyfriend. Once she had returned they left for the address Lestrade had disclosed.

"Ugh, this guy lives like a pig. What exactly are we looking for?"

"Anything out of the ordinary."

Sherlock and Molly had arrived at the house and had begun searching through it. They reached the bedroom and were searching through the owner's drawers. Sherlock gathered from his living conditions that he was not a rich man and spent whatever he earned on gambling. He had assumed they were looking for evidence of drugs or murder but so far nothing. Molly glanced towards him and spoke softly, probably the softest she's ever spoken to him.

"So, um…why not John?"

Sherlock tutted and rolled his eyes. **In all honesty, I haven't the faintest idea.**

"He becomes tiresome easily and he was busy with his writing. It seemed only easier to collect you on the…"

He was cut short by the sound of the doors opening and faint footsteps on the stairs. Remaining calm, Sherlock took Molly's arm and led her to the large wardrobe that stood against the wall. She shook her head vigorously, whispering frantically.

"No way…I'd rather get caught…"

"Trust me, that is not a good idea. I ensured the Inspector discretion would be top priority."

Molly huffed as she climbed in, shutting the doors behind her just as the bedroom door swung open. In the pitch black, neither dared utter a word, breathing rapidly and hoping he didn't need anything from the wardrobe. The footsteps shuffled around in the bedroom. A moment later, they realised just how close they were to each other. Molly had been forced to place her hands on his finely-toned chest and Sherlock could smell her hair again. His hands involuntarily moved to her hips, causing her to gasp but she didn't move them. As the person outside moved hastily around, Sherlock resisted the urge to push Molly against the back of the wardrobe. She had begun to tremble and Sherlock was sure he could hear her heartbeat. **What a predicament you seem to find yourself in, Mr. Holmes. Here you are, your life in potential danger…and you're loving your current position. If only Miss Hooper could hear your thoughts… **Sherlock swallowed as he tried to block out his thoughts but as Molly leaned to rest her head on his shoulder, he realised this was impossible.

_Ok, guys. I hope you liked that one. Shouldn't be too long a wait for the next one, college nearly finished now. Summer Holiday here I come. Going to the Harry Potter studios the day after my twentieth so…I'm a little EXCITED about that, lol. xx Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Stay tuned xx_


	3. A Lustful Hatred

_Hello and welcome back everyone! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing this story, it always puts a smile on my face :) xx Anyway, here's chapter 3… xx_

Torture - the action or practice of inflicting severe pain on someone as a punishment or in order to force them to do or say something. Also, being trapped in a wardrobe with Molly Hooper and not being able to act upon certain impulses without being caught by a potential criminal wandering just outside. As they waited silently, listening intently, Sherlock was sure Molly was tracing her fingers up and down his shirt and sighing in appreciation. Molly wished she was in her flat but at the same time, didn't want to leave. The movements outside stopped and a voice called into the quiet house.

"Sherlock? Are you still here?"

With a huff of frustration, and extreme disappointment, Sherlock shoved the wardrobe door open and came face to face with a worried looking John. Molly stepped out of the dark wardrobe and folded her arms, glaring at Sherlock and tapping him on the arm.

"A friend of yours?"

Sherlock ignored her and turned to face John, who was staring at Molly and the wardrobe with an amused expression.

"What are you doing here?"

John frowned but didn't remove his eyes from Molly as he answered his friend, his smile growing.

"Lestrade asked me how the search was going." Sherlock glanced at the floor but John continued. "Naturally, I had no idea what he was talking about, so I asked him where you were and why you didn't want me to come. It seems…now I know why."

John was grinning broadly and nodding towards Molly. Both Sherlock and Molly were scowling at the doctor, equally irritated. Sherlock cleared his throat and took a step towards John, waving his hand in Molly's direction as he spoke.

"John Watson, this is Molly Hooper, the pathologist I…mentioned from the hospital."

John smiled and rubbed his hands together as he moved towards Molly. He brushed past Sherlock and grasped Molly's hand, a look in his eye that Sherlock knew only too well.

"Hello, Molly it's a pleasure to meet you at last…and I wouldn't say you _mentioned _her, Sherlock," he glanced back at Sherlock with a twinkle in his eye and a mischievous grin. Sherlock placed his hands behind his back with a raised eyebrow as John turned back to Molly, "He hasn't shut up about you since you met…in fact, I'd go so far as to say-"

"Thank you, Doctor. Did you find anything?"

Sherlock knew for a fact that John hadn't found anything either but needed the change of subject. He could still feel his cheeks burning. Molly was watching him curiously but turned her attentions to John once he started speaking.

"No. I don't think anything is here. What shall we tell Lestrade?"

Sherlock shook his head. "Nothing. I had my suspicions that he was aware that nothing was here."

John frowned. "Why would he do that?"

Sherlock sighed as he took out his phone, tapping away furiously as he spoke. "Probably to distract me from the murder investigation he is currently working on. A solo project he has taken on in order to gain favour with his superiors."

John was nodding, rubbing his head whilst Molly was swaying on the spot as if in a trance. Sherlock thrust his phone back into his pocket with a triumphant grin. Shaking his head, John headed towards the door without a second glance.

"Hang on!" He stopped suddenly, his hand on the handle, turning around to face them. Sherlock and Molly, who had been staring intently at each other, faced awkwardly away from each other. John furrowed his brow in confusion, "…if you knew there was nothing here, why did you come?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and moved towards the door. "I was bored."

However, even John didn't miss how his eyes had settled on Molly for a brief moment as he strolled forwards. They traipsed out of the house and onto the dark London street. They had managed to hail a taxi, even though the driver grumbled about it being the end of his shift. Whether to annoy Sherlock or just as an accident, John climbed in first and gestured for Molly to climb in next to him. Sherlock reached for the handle of the front passenger seat but John frowned and shook his head.

"Come on Sherlock, we don't smell."

Scowling at his friend's stupid grin, he climbed into the back and was immediately pressed against Molly. John had been wrong; Molly smelled heavenly and it was painful. Thankfully, it was too dark for John to see how he looked at her and how his cheeks were _still _burning. Molly was trying and failing to look anywhere but at Sherlock. Meanwhile, John seemed to have all the space in the world, stretching his legs out comfortably. **Why isn't she shifting towards John? Unless, she's playing mind games with me. **Sherlock frowned and tapped his hands impatiently on the car door, earning him annoyed glances from the other three members of the taxi. Sherlock felt something vibrating against his leg and glanced down. Molly gasped and reached for her phone, brushing his trousers as she did so. She swallowed and cleared her throat before answering, trying to shift her flustered tone.

"Hello?"

_"MOLLY! Are you alright? Where are you? I thought we were having that quiet night in you wanted?"_

Molly swallowed before lowering her voice slightly. Sherlock was in a perfect position to hear every word her boyfriend spoke and, for some reason, this pleased him.

"Well, that would have been nice if you had finished earlier! What kind of computer technician works this late anyway?"

John was wincing and staring intently out of the window. **Sherlock hadn't mentioned a boyfriend. Had he? **Sherlock, meanwhile, was thinking about a particular sentence she had said: _What kind of computer technician works this late anyway? _**Could it be Mr. Perfect Boyfriend isn't as…perfect as he seems. **For the time being, Sherlock decided to keep this to himself and continued listening intently. John peered at Sherlock, and noticed he seemed to be uninterested but was leaning just a little too far back in his seat. John returned to staring out of the window, a sigh escaping him. Sherlock could just make out how Molly's hands were clenching as her boyfriend appeared to be taking his time answering her.

_"I…we…well, it was a busy day. Look, I thought you said we need the extra money…or do you not want to get married anymore!"_

Molly bit her lip and wondered for a moment what to say. Sherlock, however, had never been more delighted. **So, little Miss Hooper is engaged! Yet, she chooses not to wear the ring? Oh, this has just developed an interesting twist. **John was glancing around outside and was wondering if the cab ride always took this long. Molly muttered something and hung up her phone, sliding it through her fingers. Sherlock cleared his throat and couldn't keep the laughter out of his voice.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Molly glared at him, a look of fury just visible through the passing street lights. "Drop dead, Holmes!"

Sherlock chuckled and turned his head, towards the window. "I would think about that if I were you…where would I end up, Miss Hooper…and who would have to…'examine' me, if that were the case?"

Sherlock was smirking as he faced Molly once more, a devilish twinkle in his eye, and Molly was blinking rapidly and swallowing rather urgently. John groaned and considered yelling at them to 'get on with it'. He felt a pang of sadness for the boyfriend; he didn't know what it was but Sherlock and Molly couldn't seem to keep away from each other. Their eyes would occasionally drift to the other, no matter how they tried to avoid it. They would find excuses now and again to reach and 'accidentally' brush the other, whether it be stretching or…something else. John was growing increasingly impatient and not to mention…uncomfortable. The car soon slowed outside Molly's building and the driver was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. Molly shot an awkward smile in John's direction, who nodded in reply, before turning in the other direction to get out of the car. Sherlock, however, appeared to have no intention of moving aside to let her out. Instead, he inclined his head sideways slightly and raised a challenging eyebrow at her, a small smirk noticeable once more. John sighed, rubbing his temple. **You have got to be kidding me. **Molly, however, accepted the silent challenge with a huff of irritation and was moving to climb over and past Sherlock. The look of surprise was evident on the detective's face for only a brief moment until Molly swung her leg over his lap so she was straddling him, the door remaining closed and forgotten…just like John and the cab driver. John caught the eye of the driver in the mirror and John shrugged whilst the driver huffed as he checked his watch. Molly was leaning her forehead against Sherlock's now and was playing with strands of his curly hair, a teasing look in her eye. His hands were moving up and down her back. John watched with horrified amusement; he didn't know what to do or where to look. Molly smirked deviously and she began moving her hand slowly in the direction of the car door.

"You should have moved…"

Sherlock's eyes flickered in the direction of her lips…the temptation was unbearable. His hands settled on her hips, gripping her firmly. John raised his eyebrows at the movement and folded his arms curiously.

"Now, why would I have done that?"

Molly shook her head and breathed out, "You're infuriating…"

Sherlock breathed in sharply. "So are you…I was fine until you came along and now-"

"Excuse me! I am running late…I have my own family to get back to, you know…"

The taxi driver had banged his hand on the steering wheel and turned around the face them. John buried his face in his hands, wishing he were anywhere else and waited for…anything. Even though Sherlock's grip on her hips remained, Molly swallowed before pulling her door open and stepping out rather quickly without another glance back at the taxi. The driver set off once more, grumbling to himself and Sherlock ruffled his hair, a deep sigh escaping him. He could see two possible situations occurring between Molly and her boyfriend: they were currently having an almighty argument or had made up and were currently heading for their bedroom, hand in hand. Personally, he predicted, and hoped, it was the first option. Sherlock soon became aware that John was staring at him and turned slightly towards him and caught sight of his wide grin, raised eyebrow and folded arms.

"Shut up…"

John smiled as he shook his head. **Oh, Sherlock, what have you done?**

The next few days were complete hell for John. When he wasn't sat on the sofa, absorbed in his mind palace with his hands clasped under his chin in the usual way, Sherlock was pacing up and down the room, shooting deductions and theories about one certain subject: Molly Hooper. Since the taxi incident, John had avoided all questions associating her but that didn't stop Sherlock from constantly talking about things he had noticed over the short time he had known her. Now, Sherlock was once again sprawled on the sofa lazily, a deep frown on his face as he shook his head. John watched him with a confused expression, the paper he was trying to read forgotten in his hands.

"What's the matter with you?"

Sherlock glanced quickly towards John before sitting upright suddenly and saying in an annoyed voice, "There is no room..." another confused stare from John caused Sherlock to stand up and pace the room once more, "in my mind palace…it is filled with useless information on that…irritating woman…"

John rolled his eyes and hid his smirk behind his paper; he had given up trying to read after he had read the same line three times. **How quickly the apparently 'immune' become incredibly infatuated. And Sherlock bloody Holmes of all people.**

"Don't you think it's time you did something about it?"

Sherlock didn't answer, instead stopped pacing and clasped his hands under his chin. After hearing the door to the flat slam shut, John frowned and looked over the top of the paper. Sherlock had disappeared and John didn't need telling where he had gone.

Sherlock stood outside the entrance to Bart's lab, peering through the window to watch Molly working on an analysis. **Hmmm, she obviously spent more time on her appearance this morning and choosing her clothing meaning the boyfriend wasn't present at her flat this morning. She was able to perform her morning routine without the needless interruptions. **Molly took a step back and a deep breath, pulling off her gloves and fanning herself. She swept her hair behind her back and placed her hands on her hips, watching her sample with a satisfied smile. That is until Sherlock strolled into the lab with a furious look on his face. Molly frowned at the intrusion as she whirled around to face him. He stopped in front of her, breathing heavily with his hands clenched by his sides. After a few moments of staring each other up and down, Sherlock spoke through gritted teeth.

"I…hate…you."

Molly raised her eyebrows and slammed the gloves down hard onto the table, breathing heavily now as well. Their eyes met as she stomped forwards, until they were mere inches apart. Her voice was shrill as she spoke to him, her tone harsh.

"You avoid me…don't even _speak _to me for nearly three days and now you come…all this way to tell me you…_hate _me? Seems like a wasted trip to me…"

She attempted to push past him as hard as she could but he grabbed her upper arm and stopped her. Sherlock spoke in a low voice, lower than usual, directly into her ear, making sure his breath caressed her neck. Molly stiffened and tried to keep her face stern as she stared ahead, fuming silently.

"I was not…specific…I mean, I hate…what you have…_done…_to me."

Molly moved her head towards Sherlock's and met his blue eyes in an intense gaze, her lips parting slightly. Before she could reply, however, he was kissing her. No, _kissing _implied tenderness and care. Sherlock Holmes was _snogging _Molly Hooper, desperately and hungrily, one of his hands on her back and the other in her soft hair, and Molly was responding with such enthusiasm, Sherlock was forced to stagger backwards a few steps. Her hands had found themselves gripping and clawing at his muscled back and shoulders.

Outside on the street, Oliver swallowed the cool, night air and considered, if Molly wasn't going to answer his calls, he'd have to seek her forgiveness in person. **It was one stupid fight; it can't be over like that. I have to fight for her, I love her, for God's sake. **His footsteps echoed down the hall, tapping on the cold tile floor, but neither Sherlock nor Molly seemed to notice as their hands travelled down towards each other's shirt buttons…

_Dun Dun…DUN! Hmmm, was that too soon? Ah, there's still plenty more that's for sure ;p I really don't know how to feel for Ollie, lol :s Well, what's going to happen now? xx Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, favouriting and following, big hugs to you all and I hope you liked that chapter. Stay tuned, back soon :D xx_


	4. Don't Go Back To Him

_Hello again guys. Thank you so much for reading this story and I hope your enjoying it ;) I love you all. Anyway, here's #4…_

Ollie pushed the door to the lab open and sighed when he saw it was empty. **Where the hell is she? How am I supposed to make up with her if she won't ****_talk _****to me? **He walked over to a stool and was about to sit down when he noticed something on the floor. It looked, after only a brief examination, though, to be Molly's lab coat. Ollie frowned as he moved closer but someone at the door stopped him.

"Excuse me? Can I help you?"

John Watson's voice at the door of the lab caused Ollie to jump and spin around. John's face immediately lit up, and Ollie reciprocated his smile.

"Brax? Old Ollie Braxton? How are you?"

"Oh, you know…coping…you don't by any chance happen to know Molly Hooper, do you?"

John swallowed as he glanced to the bench just behind Ollie. He forced a smile onto his face as he focused on Ollie.

"Uh…yeah…we've met…she's gone home for the evening…oh, _you're _her boyfriend…small world…"

John felt even worse for his old friend, now. Ollie, however, nodded and clapped John on the shoulder.

"How's civilian life treating you, anyway?"

John rubbed the back of his neck, deciding to dodge the subject of Sherlock Holmes.

"Not too bad…got myself a nice little flat on Baker Street. Nice place…anyway, what about you?"

Ollie pursed his lips and carefully sat down on the stool in the lab, folding his arms across his chest and taking a deep breath. John leaned against the wall when it became apparent they weren't leaving anytime soon, all the while glancing nervously to different spots in the lab.

"After I left the army, I sorted myself out, found a nice little job in technology. Engineering never seemed to grab my attention afterwards. About a year ago, I met Molly in Starbucks, we both ordered the same coffee…" John gave a small chuckle as Ollie glanced up at him, "we moved in together after six months and I _thought _we were happy. I mean, she never answers me properly when I say, 'I love you', but I know she means it…" John bit his lip and looked at the floor as Ollie continued, "I asked her to marry me, last week actually. It's just…recently…she's been acting strange…" Ollie chuckled to himself and stood up, "listen to me go on, I'm sorry. I guess, I don't have anyone else to complain to. I had better go and find Molly…2

John nodded and hugged his old friend goodbye. Ollie cleared his throat.

"I'll love her…no matter what…I just wish I understood her," he paused at the doors and turned to face John, "do you fancy a drink? Give us a proper chance to catch up."

John, after one more nervous sweep of the room, smiled brightly and began moving towards the door.

"Alright, but you're buying…"

The doors slowly shut behind them and the lab once again fell silent. That is except for the heavy breathing coming from the two people leaning with their backs against the bench in the lab. Sherlock watched as Molly hastily retrieved her lab coat and scrambled to put her shirt right. Sherlock stood up, not bothering to retrieve his discarded shirt from the corner of the room it had ended up in, and narrowed his eyes at Molly combing her hands through her hair, trying to straighten it.

"There is no need to feel guilty, it was just a kiss. A rather passionate we'd-be-having-sex-on-this-very-bench-if-it-weren' t-for-the-interruption kind of kiss, but a kiss nonetheless."

"Shut up…that was…unexpected…a mistake."

Molly scowled in his direction before dashing around the lab, checking everything was in place before collecting her bag. She faltered when she reached Sherlock, who was holding her bag, and grew flustered as she noticed his toned chest. She stopped and finally looked him in the eyes, penetrating and softer than usual.

"It is to my understanding that mistakes are generally classed as incidents that are one-off circumstances. I can see that neither of us intended it to be a 'mistake'. Whatever this is…I don't want it to end…don't go back to him…"

Swallowing, Molly took her bag from him and dropped it to the floor as she moved her hands up and down his muscled arms, sighing in approval. Sherlock found his hands in her hair, stroking carefully. Molly closed her eyes and muttered something Sherlock really had to listen to.

"He loves me…he's my fiancé…"

Sherlock dipped his head low, to whisper in her ear and nuzzle her earlobe teasingly. Molly held her breath, hating herself for it.

"Yes…but do you love him? Do you _want _him? Don't go back to him…"

Molly stepped away, picking up her bag and smiling at him.

"Mistakes happen, Sherlock Holmes, I am sorry for what happened…"

Sherlock returned the smile, bending to pick up his shirt at last. As he sorted himself out, he was once again aware of Molly's eyes on him. **What has happened to us?**

"No you're not. This…is far from over…until next time…Miss Hooper…"

He winked at her before pushing past her roughly and leaving the stuffy lab room. He stopped halfway down the corridor to lean against the wall and catch his breath. **You are in way over your head, now. How long can you pretend that you don't care for her? She is going to go back to that…moron unless you do something. **Sherlock stepped away from the wall and glanced up and down the corridor, one way leading back to the lab and the other the streets of London. He smoothed his shirt down and smirked as he moved confidently towards his destination…

_Oh, dear, which way did he choose? We'll have to wait and see *evil smile* Thank you so much for reading, reviewing and bothering lol :) xx I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Stay tuned, back soon xx_


	5. Confessions at the Engagement Party

_Hello everyone! As always, thank you all so much for reading this and I hope you are enjoying it :) I really appreciate it (it boosts my confidence greatly, lol!) xx Anyway, here's #5… xx_

"Sherlock? I didn't think you'd be back so soon…"

John frowned in the direction of his flatmate, setting his cup on the coffee table in front of his chair. Oliver was occupying the sofa, his hands placed in his lap and was glancing with interest towards the towering figure by the door. Sherlock smirked as he closed the door and sat himself besides Oliver. He had been about to speak, probably 'unintentionally' revealing his steamy snogging session with Molly in the process, but Oliver intervened.

"John never told me he had a flatmate."

John swallowed and rubbed his temple and Sherlock turned to face Oliver. He narrowed his eyes and they flitted over the man. **Ah, this is the 'fiance', then. Blonde hair, green eyes, round glasses with a small piece of sellotape at the corners, suggesting they are old and used often; his occupation being the main factor as long days are spent in front of a computer. Stain on his shirt says avid coffee drinker, obvious given how he and Molly met. He wears the ring with pride, clean and well looked after. **Oliver shifted uncomfortably and fiddled with his hands, until Sherlock spoke.

"No. He wouldn't have. He never told me about you, either…"

John buried his face in his hands now as he became aware Oliver was staring at him in confusion. **Why does everything come back to me?** Sherlock was flexing his fingers as Oliver frowned, studying the stranger.

"Why…why would he? Who are-"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Sherlock Holmes, I am sure you have heard of me."

Oliver raised his eyebrows and swallowed, reaching for his coffee. Sherlock watched him with interest, anger flooding through him now. John was shaking his head, suddenly interested in his hands.

"Um…yes, actually. Molly, my fiancée-"

"Girlfriend…I'd hardly call her that, to be honest."

John closed his eyes tightly, wishing this would end. **Oh my god. Nothing in the world can make this moment any better right now. If I had known Molly's boyfriend was ****_Ollie. _**Oliver was growing annoyed now and Sherlock had turned once more, facing away from him.

"Excuse me? What do you know about _our _relationship?"

Sherlock smiled deviously and caught the 'please, just leave it' look John was giving him. Naturally, he ignored it and turned around quickly to face the stunned man once more.

"Hmmm, you spend all your time working, even late hours into the night. Doesn't that strike you as odd? Now, to me, and anyone else, it looks rather a lot like you're screwing whoever happens to be there at the time…"

Oliver slammed his cup down, spilling coffee everywhere, and jumped to his feet. He wasn't usually one for confrontations but this…this was too much. He was turning red in the face, stuttering as he tried to answer Sherlock, who was growing more and more smug as the minutes rolled by.

"I…I…well, I…"

John removed his hands from his face to frown at his friend as he watched Oliver struggle with words. **Oliver never used to be like this; the man literally used to lose clumps of hair if he told a single lie.** It seems Sherlock had struck a nerve; Oliver really didn't know what to say. He began nervously sweating and rubbing his hands together as Sherlock smiled smugly. Their attention was momentarily drawn to the door of the flat as it crept slowly open. Molly stood in the doorway with her arms folded crossly, her eyes watery as she stared daggers at the man she was intending to marry. Sherlock watched with silent interest, tapping the arm of his chair, whilst Oliver was rooted to the spot, his nervousness was even more evident now.

"Molly-"

"Is it true?"

Molly's whisper caused John to sink back into his seat, hoping to disappear into the cushions. Oliver sighed dramatically, striding forwards and taking Molly's hands as he explained himself.

"Look, it was meant to be a surprise…I was organising a surprise engagement party for us! I had _intended _to tell you tonight…oh, well at least now you know, I don't have to keep it a secret anymore."

Molly's expression changed immensely as smiled and hugged Oliver tightly, a sigh of relief escaping her. Sherlock folded his arms angrily, still not convinced of Oliver's fidelity.

"How exciting…when is it?"

Everyone in the room turned towards Sherlock, who had spoken through gritted teeth and was wearing an extremely fake smile. Oliver extracted himself from Molly's grasp and cleared his throat.

"Um…tomorrow at 7:30pm. I know, short notice, but everything is planned. It just needs us…"

Molly smiled softly and Sherlock rolled his eyes. John smiled nervously in acceptance as Oliver began leading Molly towards the door.

"Ok, we'll see you then."

Oliver glanced towards Molly who shrugged and silently accepted the fact that Sherlock had just invited himself and John to the party. John gave a small wave, waiting until the door closed completely before rounding on Sherlock.

"What the hell was that?"

Sherlock shrugged and brought his knees to his chest, frowning at the floor. John shook his head as he retreated to his room, his head spinning with all that had just happened. **I think I need a lie down.**

"Damn it, I left my coat up there."

Oliver gave Molly a small smile as he hurried back up the stairs, ignoring her offers to retrieve it herself. Oliver barged through the door of the flat to find Sherlock pacing the room and muttering to himself. Sherlock stopped at the window, his hands clasped behind his back, and facing away from the door.

"Since you never brought anything with you, I am assuming you are here to 'warn me off'."

Oliver swallowed before drawing himself up and clenching his fists, trying to make himself sound threatening.

"I cannot _tell_ to stay away from Molly…but I will warn you, if you do not leave her alone…I will be forced to use other means…to persuade you."

Sherlock chuckled as he turned to face Oliver. His attempts at trying to sound threatening were ruined by his immense sweating and high-pitched voice. Sherlock took a step forwards.

"No…and please climb down from your high horse, I know you are a liar…it is just a matter of…proving it."

Sherlock strode in the direction of his bedroom and slammed the door which was quickly followed by the door of the flat closing harshly. Sherlock ruffled his hair as he collapsed onto his bed, a million thoughts running through his head, all concerning how he was going to go about producing the evidence.

_Tomorrow, 7:30pm_

Molly had spent most of the day trying to convince Oliver that her favourite purple figure hugging dress with matching shoes was perfectly respectable after he had tried to persuade her to wear a long sleeved jumper and jeans. Molly's best friend Mary Morstan had nearly punched Oliver herself when he had yelled at her while he was preparing the party, – "he told me to get out the way and to save my energy for cooking and child-bearing! I was only trying to help!" – so instead she settled to pull Molly's hair into tight curls. The first to arrive, at exactly 7:30pm on the dot, were Oliver's parents and they immediately began fussing over their precious son, ignoring Molly and Mary as if they blended into the wall. Molly was used to this by now; his parents had never warmed to her just as her mother hadn't warmed to him. They weren't even being civil so the wedding itself would be an interesting affair. The door creaked open once more and Molly's mother stepped into the flat, smiling and embracing her daughter.

Half an hour after the party had officially started, Molly began scanning the flat, searching for the handsome detective but he wasn't here. She sighed and moved into the kitchen, breathing deeply and clutching the counter. **It's good that he isn't here, that way you can just forget about him. **Molly sighed as she rested her head, in her arms. **If only it were that easy.** John and Sherlock strolled into the flat a moment later, grabbing a glass of champagne as they entered. After a quick scan of the flat, Sherlock immediately spotted Oliver engaged in an intimate conversation with a redheaded woman and nudged John, who frowned in his old friend's direction.

"Do you recognise her?"

He was forced to speak louder over the music and John wrinkled his nose in confusion, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought.

"No…but they look like they know each other well…wait…you don't think...?"

Sherlock shrugged and took a long swig of his drink. The woman's eyes fell upon him momentarily and she nodded at Oliver, before making her way over to them. John muttered something Sherlock couldn't hear before patting him on the shoulder and leaving to approach Mary, who was talking to Molly's mother. The woman stopped in front of Sherlock and smiled brightly, standing and moving in a way he supposed was considered flirtatious. She stepped forwards, backing the confused detective against the wall.

"So, does Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome have a name?

Sherlock rolled his eyes and attempted to push past but the woman was determined. Molly decided she couldn't stay in the kitchen forever and, accepting he wasn't coming, moved back into the living room…only to find Oliver's boss Erica, practically mounting Sherlock. Frowning deeply, Molly found Oliver and quickly strode over.

"Why is Erica flirting with Sherlock? She's married…why is she doing that?"

Oliver shrugged, hiding his smile behind his glass of champagne. Unbeknownst to him, Oliver's elaborate plan of keeping Sherlock away from Molly was backfiring as Molly watched them with a burning hatred; Erica was standing on her tiptoes to whisper into Sherlock's ear. Molly clenched her fists tightly and stomped towards her bedroom, little knowing the detective's eyes followed her all the way there.

Molly threw herself onto her bed, depressing thoughts entering her head. Erica was known for getting what she wanted but Molly tried not to think about it. She was too busy in her own little world to notice her bedroom door opening and closing rapidly.

"Are you alright?"

Molly jumped as the deep voice drifted through the air and filled her mind. She shook her head vigorously before turning to face him, her breath catching as she did so. His hair was a mess, more so than usual, and the tie John had forced him to wear had come loose. **Oh my god, he got off with Erica. Why does that matter? **Molly swallowed and Sherlock smirked to himself. She stood up suddenly, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.

"Why were you flirting with Erica…she's married, you know?"

"Of course…and I wasn't. She pulled my tie loose and I shoved her away…besides, why do you care?"

Sherlock's smirk was irritating her, but not in the way it used to as Molly realised the effect it had on her. She wanted, really wanted, to wipe the smirk off his face with a searing, passionate kiss which would leave him breathless. Instead, she folded her arms defensively.

"I don't…" Sherlock raised his eyebrows but Molly continued, "I was concerned that's all…"

All attempts at speech were abandoned as Sherlock reached up to caress her cheek softly. Molly closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of someone appreciating her for once. Sherlock' eyes drifted over her appearance, taking in every ounce of her. He was breathing heavy now and his voice was barely audible.

"You are…breath-taking…and I do not just mean tonight…"

Molly opened her eyes and her cheeks flushed. She was not used to this kind of talk from anyone…Oliver _never _complimented her appearance because he didn't want to be 'sexist'. She shook her head at the thought of Oliver, taking his hand and removing it from her face.

"That doesn't make a difference. I am still engaged…Oliver is my fiancé. He _loves _me…"

"Well, that is too bad…because so do I."

_Whoa, sorry about the length, could you tell I had real trouble finishing that one? And what a place to leave it… lol. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing and bothering ;) xx Stay tuned, back soon :D xx_


	6. You're Not Going Anywhere

_Hiya, all. Thank you so much for the lovely comments and for reading this story, it always makes me smile :) xx Anyway, back to the party ;p… xx_

Molly blinked in confusion; she was sure she had misheard him.

"What did you say?"

Sherlock sighed but didn't remove his eyes from the annoying woman he couldn't stop thinking about.

"It's true. I wish I didn't…I cannot focus on cases because of you…I cannot sleep, when I need to, obviously…basic thoughts return to you every time…that man is not good enough…it burns me to see you together…"

Molly stared open-mouthed for a moment, not knowing what to say. There was no denying she wanted Sherlock but she had no idea his feelings ran that deep. **Who are you kidding? Tell him…be happy for once. Oliver isn't the one…how long have you known that? **Molly cleared her throat and looked at the floor, fiddling with her hands.

"Oh, Sherlock…Oliver is-"

Sherlock huffed in irritation and grabbed her arms roughly, spinning her around and slamming her into the door. The look of shock in Molly's eyes was instantly replaced with burning lust as she met Sherlock's gaze and he smirked in appreciation. **It seems sweet little Molly Hooper likes it rough. **Molly entwined her hands into his hair and began pulling, none too softly causing him to moan. Sherlock's voice was a low animalistic growl when he was able to communicate.

"Alright…just tell me to go…and I'll walk out of here and never bother you again…if that's what you want…"

"You're not going anywhere…"

Molly pulled his head down until their lips collided roughly, biting and battling fiercely. They were a mess of tangled limbs and wandering hands, kissing passionately against the door, gasping and moaning softly into the other's skin. They were interrupted by the door handle rattling and Sherlock released a breathless Molly to stand behind the door as it swung open. Oliver stood swaying on the spot for a moment before he managed to speak.

"Speeches, now..."

He pulled her arm clumsily and led them into the living room. He stopped her in the middle and grabbed his glass. The room went instantly silent and every eye in the room was now resting on Oliver as he raised his glass.

"Thank you for coming everyone. I'd just like to the end the evening on a high…this time next month I'll be a happily married man!"

Applause filled the room and Molly glanced at the floor, guilt filling her to the brim. Sherlock appeared from the bedroom discreetly and his eyes scanned the room, finding Erica gazing longingly at Oliver. He ruffled his hair and moved towards the door; he did not intend to listen to Oliver's drunken ramblings. Molly lifted her head, a huge fake grin plastered on her face, just in time to see the door to her flat swing closed. She sighed and nodded as Oliver continued. **It's for the best.**

"…my fiancée, Molly, the woman who has saved me…thank you."

Cheers and more applause filled the room and Molly couldn't keep the tears from falling down her face. One by one, people began to disappear from the flat, heading to their homes with their loved ones. Oliver approached her and placed a gentle kiss to her cheek, glancing at Erica over her shoulder. John, who had successfully 'chatted up' Mary, offered to take her home and was next to leave, bidding Molly goodnight as he placed Mary's coat on her shoulders. Soon it was just Molly, her mother, Oliver, Erica, and a couple of Oliver's work mates. At the stroke of eleven, Oliver pulled Molly aside and whispered into her ear.

"I'm walking Erica home. I'll be back soon."

Before Molly could say anything else, he had turned around and left the flat with the redhead on his arm. Molly shook her head and collapsed onto the sofa, tears falling once more. Mrs. Hooper politely told the other party goers to leave before placing herself next to her daughter with a small sigh, draping an arm across her daughter's shoulders.

"What's wrong, Molly?"

Molly looked up at her mother and sobbed harder, holding tighter as she did so.

"I'm in love…"

Mrs. Hooper frowned in confusion before chuckling slightly, giving Molly a tight squeeze. Molly collapsed against her mother.

"My dear…that is why you're getting married."

Molly shook her head and removed herself from her mother's grip. She swallowed before leaning forwards and placing her head in her hands.

"It's not Oliver I'm in love with."

Mrs. Hooper sighed and nodded slowly. She reached for her glass of champagne and took a long sip.

"Ah. Well, in that case, I trust you'll do the right thing…"

Mrs. Hooper winked at her daughter before pulling Molly against her once more. Molly thought to herself for a moment and jumped to her feet.

"Thank you, Mum. Be safe…"

Mrs. Hooper smiled brightly as she left the now virtually empty and extremely messy flat. Molly picked up her phone and dialled the number with a deep breath.

_"What?"_

"Oliver, it's nearly half eleven. Where are you?"

_"Oh, Molly, don't worry. I'm fine…I'm with a few mates from work…I'm crashing at their place tonight…see you tomorrow."_

Oliver hung up before Molly could get another word in. She sat on the sofa and placed her head in her hands once more. Toby, her cat who had been hiding throughout the party, jumped onto the sofa and purred softly. Molly scratched his ears and sighed to herself.

"What do I do, Toby?"

The cat simply blinked up at her and Molly shook her head lovingly. **I am a mess.**

"Thank you for a perfect night, Mary. I'll definitely call you."

Mary beamed and nodded before closing the door to her flat firmly. John resisted the urge to jump and cheer, instead settling for walking briskly in the direction of Baker Street, glancing at his watch as he did so. **1:00am! Mary and I must have been talking for hours. Well, how was I supposed to know 'would you like to have coffee in my flat' actually meant exactly that? **John reached 221 quickly, having sped up due to the cold temperature. He pulled the door open with chattering teeth and hurried up the stairs. He wrenched the door open and blinked in the sudden light. Sherlock was lying on the sofa, frowning and deep in thought, staring into space. John cleared his throat but Sherlock didn't move an inch.

"Um…so how did it go?"

Sherlock took a deep breath, his hands clasped under his chin in his trademark way, his eyes remaining firmly closed.

"I told her…you know, how I _felt._...stupid thing to do, really."

John rubbed the back of his neck and smiled awkwardly. He had hoped to say something supportive, but nothing was coming to his mind. **Molly rejected him? Jesus, say something supportive…help him…**

"Uh…at least you got it off your chest. So…um…that's it then? She's going to marry Oliver and you're just done…?"

Sherlock turned to John and opened his mouth but was stopped by the bathroom door opening. Molly entered the room, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt and apologised quickly before dashing into Sherlock's bedroom. John raised his eyebrows as he turned to face Sherlock, who was trying and failing to hide his smirk.

"Well, not exactly…no"

_Well, well, well…what happened in those 'lost minutes?' lol. I guess we'll find out next time ;p Sorry to tease, lol. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. xx Always makes me happy :) Stay tuned, back soon xx_


	7. The Lost Minutes

_Hello and welcome back. I hope you're ready for this because here we have the LOST MINUTES, GUYS! xx Ok, here we go then ;) …. xx_

John was so utterly shocked he could do nothing but watch Sherlock's smirk grow as Molly removed herself from his bedroom, wearing his blue silk dressing gown and saunter over to him. In fact, John was further disregarded as Molly stopped in front of Sherlock and played with his hair softly, biting her lip. Sherlock sat up straight and pulled Molly onto his lap with a devilish look in his eyes, and wasted no time in kissing her passionately. John glanced at the ceiling and cleared his throat; he realised this had no effect whatsoever, though.

"Um…hello? Yeah, are you going to fill in the blanks or not?"

Sherlock huffed in irritation and pulled away from Molly reluctantly, but that didn't stop Molly from moving her lips to his neck. Sherlock turned to John and smirked, his mind trying to resist focusing on Molly's motions. It failed disastrously.

"Hmmm, sit down, John and prepare yourself for a story so unbelievably…"

He trailed off as Molly found the spot behind his ear. John sighed dramatically and collapsed into his chair, frowning as he did so. John moved fidgeted in the chair for a moment before shrugging. **I could have sworn this is off-balance…oh well.** Sherlock soon regained his powers of speech and cleared his throat, his voice husky.

"Unbelievably…what was I saying? Oh…it doesn't matter…just listen because I don't…want to repeat myself..."

John nodded and mentally prepared himself for what he was sure was going to traumatise the hell out of him…

Sherlock slammed the door to 221B, fury surging through him. **That bastard…that bloody bastard! He treats Molly like…she's nothing and he ****_still _****gets to be with her. He's screwing that stupid tart and he…doesn't care. He's the one marrying her…well, Molly made it perfectly clear how she felt. She was the one snogging ****_me _****at ****_her _****engagement party. Surely, that is enough. **Sherlock shook his head vigorously and started pacing, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He sighed and threw himself onto the sofa, settling into his mind palace. This was becoming increasingly impossible as Molly was there…in every single room. He couldn't get away…it was painful. It was when he happened upon a room containing Oliver's smug face that he lost it. He jumped to his feet and kicked the nearest thing in sight – the door of 221B. Pain shot to his foot but he didn't care as he clenched his fists; he was certain he was going mad. It wasn't until the buzzer sounded that he pulled himself together; Mrs. Hudson apparently hadn't heard as Sherlock hadn't heard her move. Sighing, he moved carefully to the door, his foot stinging still. He moved down the stairs and stopped at the door. He wasn't in the mood to see anyone right now, especially John. Sherlock glanced towards the door of the flat once more, considering just returning to his turmoil. **Sod it…what fresh hell could be awaiting me just outside the door? Nothing compared to what I endured in Oliver's presence, anyway. **Frowning, he shuffled in the direction of the door, ruffling his hair and wrenching it open. Sherlock's frown disappeared immediately as he saw who was standing there. Molly was still in her purple outfit from the party and her expression was confident and sure. There was a few moments of silence until Molly spoke with an unmistakeable tone to her voice.

"You still haven't apologised for spilling coffee on me…"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows as Molly stepped over the threshold, removing her jacket. Sherlock watched her casually drop it to the floor; he was still holding the door open. He smirked and shook his head, their eyes meeting once more and Sherlock swallowed.

"I am not going to apologise…for the moment I met you…"

Molly stepped forwards and slowly closed the door, never removing her gaze from Sherlock's. She bit her lip and took a deep breath before speaking in a breathless tone.

"I've left Oliver…it turns out I don't love him…"

Sherlock nodded slowly, trying to ignore the sudden flutter of butterflies in his stomach. He ruffled his hair again and nodded, speaking in an equally breathless tone.

"I cannot say I feel bad for him…"

There was a moment of heavy breathing and longing looks before they practically jumped into the other's arms, their arms winding around each other and lips seeking each other. Partly due to the fact they had collided so forcefully and their legs were so wobbly – and partly because they were so desperate for each other – they collapsed on the stairs, still locked in their embrace. Molly tore open Sherlock's shirt and wasted no time in kissing, licking and nipping at every bit of skin she could see. Sherlock's mind went blank as Molly worked her mouth masterfully over his chest and stomach, his own hands roaming everywhere they could before settling on her thigh and bringing it upwards. Molly moaned against his skin and Sherlock was certain it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, even better than his violin strings. Molly kissed her way up his body to his ear, whispering seductively to him.

"Shall we get to the flat…I don't fancy…having you right here…with Mrs. Hudson just…in the next room…"

Sherlock smirked as he found her neck this time…another moan from Molly. Another satisfied sigh from Sherlock. It was the biggest effort in the world to tear himself away from Molly's body and pull her up the stairs with him. They were barely inside when Molly attacked him once more, her arms wrapping around his neck as she placed flurries of kisses to his face. Sherlock hoisted her off of the ground and Molly wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling his hair again. Sherlock responded by slamming her against the wall with a growl. Molly gasped against his mouth and smirked.

"Oh…I _love _it when you do that…"

"I know…"

Sherlock smirked delightfully and his shaky hands found her zip, pulling it down desperately. Molly responded by ridding him completely of his shirt and removing herself from his waist. Sherlock blinked in confusion until Molly pushed him forcefully backwards and Sherlock landed on his back. Molly approached him slowly and removed her dress, biting her lip and Sherlock's eyes darkened considerably. Sherlock watched as Molly reached forwards and, excruciatingly slowly, Molly removed his belt and slipped his trousers off. A split second later, Molly was straddling Sherlock and kissing him once more. He placed his hands on her hips as Molly started to move with him, bouncing and rocking appropriately. Molly's hands stroked up and down his chest as she moved vigorously. She threw her head back, moaning delightfully as Sherlock placed kisses along her neck and chest, his tongue darting out every now and again. He met her movements and moans perfectly and Sherlock held her tighter as Molly's loudest gasp yet erupted from her mouth. Feeling the exhilarating sensations exploding out of each other together, they rested their foreheads against each other and panted desperately. After a moment, Molly started to chuckle and Sherlock raised his eyebrows.

"We had…better move…"

Sherlock blinked before realising where exactly he and Molly had just…'been'. Molly stood up, still gasping for air slightly and Sherlock followed her, smirking as he bit her neck. He glanced back at John's chair and smirked even wider.

"Oh dear…"

That was all the coherent thought Sherlock could muster as Molly pulled him forcefully in the direction of his bedroom…he had a feeling that was just the beginning.

John had risen to his feet halfway through the story and was shaking his head, clenching and unclenching his fists. Sherlock was smirking as he turned back to Molly, laying her back on against the sofa. John moved towards the door, shaking his head.

"Ok…that certainly clears things up…and thanks for being so 'descriptive'…much appreciated…"

John couldn't leave the flat quickly enough and he hurried down the stairs. He groaned as he heard giggling followed by loud sighs. He wrenched the door open, crashing into someone standing outside. His heart stopped as he noticed it was Oliver, red-faced and sweating.

"John? I…just got a message from…my Molly…she's left me…is she here?"

A loud crash sounded from upstairs followed by heavy panting. John hoped his poker face was good enough as he answered his old friend.

"Umm…no…why…why would she be?" John hastily attempted to change the subject. "Ollie, have you been messing around? Do you remember Kerry?"

"Kerry? Why are you bringing her up? She was a total bitch to you, John, you didn't deserve her…just think, it's someone else's bastard that slut is bringing up now…and I didn't cheat nor am I sleeping with Erica…"

John bit his lip. Kerry was once his childhood sweetheart, the woman he loved and had planned to marry. He had returned from serving abroad, once, and found her 'sexts' from a stranger. She never told him who she was having an affair with, but it tore John apart. A few months after they had split up, he discovered she was pregnant and John returned abroad, completely distraught. He had never told Sherlock but had planned to, one day, ask him if he could 'solve it'. He glanced at Oliver.

"Yeah, alright…thank you for helping me through that by the way…"

Oliver nodded and shifted on his feet, pausing as another loud sound and giggling came from upstairs. John tried to protest as Oliver pushed past him and hurried upstairs...

_Oh, yes…this isn't over yet….lol ;) Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked that one xx Stay tuned, back soon xx_


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